Possessed

“Come here. I want you this way.”

She crawled up next to him, the loose bra falling from her shoulders and onto the bed, not that she noticed. Her hands reached out, seeking his leg this time, his hip, his chest, the nipples that were tight, the shallow of his ear. Yes, she thought. She did love to touch. And he was ultimately touchable.

He helped her climb on top of him, with a silk-covered thigh on either side of his legs. He stroked the material and she watched his eyes linger on the sight of his fingers moving from her pale, creamy thigh to black silk to creamy skin again. “That is hot,” he muttered gutturally.

Then his eyes moved to her breasts. She looked down with him and saw that while her breasts were small, merely a handful each, her nipples had never been harder or more pronounced. She watched as his hand moved up to cup them and the sensation was almost too intense. When his fingers tightened on one nipple, she felt it all the way down to the pit of her stomach.

She sighed and he turned his attention to the other one. She knew that he was watching her face, and she could only imagine what he saw there, but she had no power to hide it.

Then she felt his hand once more on her bottom, this time guiding her, moving her forward so that her knees were just about on either side of his waist, and when she lowered herself, she felt the brush of his cock against the center of her.

He reached over her to one side of the bed. She heard the slide of the drawer and the crinkle of a packet and realized that the thought of protection hadn’t even entered her consciousness. Thankfully, it had entered his. But rather than don the condom, he placed it on the bed beside him.

One hand stayed on her ass, the other cupped her chin so that she was forced to meet his very intense steel- blue gaze. “Just for a minute. I want to feel you without it. Okay?”

Numbly, she nodded. She’d never done this without the barrier before. Even during the frenzied mating with Dougie she’d been aware enough to realize the necessity of a condom. This would be new.

Guiding her, he lowered her until she felt the thick head of his erection probing between her slick folds. He slipped inside, and then pulled her knees farther up so that she naturally sank down on him, skewered, while he was slowly enveloped.

His harsh breathing and her delicate sigh were the only two sounds in the quiet room. Then she slowly lifted herself up his body, barely holding him inside her, only to sink down again, squeezing herself around him as she did.

“Yes,” he hissed, then repeated it as it seemed to be the only word left in his vocabulary. He held her in place and kissed her again. His tongue plunged deep and rough inside her mouth in a way he wouldn’t let his body duplicate. Instead, he remained still inside her, high and hard, pulsing but not moving. The sensation of connectivity was unlike any she had ever known with the living or with the dead.

“Now,” he barked. With his hands wrapped around her waist, he lifted her until he was free from her body and she heard a small gasp escape his lips. With ruthless efficiency, he put the condom on and then quickly dragged her back over him and buried himself inside her as if each second apart from her had been torture.

The barrier was mildly frustrating only because she preferred the intense heat of his skin inside her, but she dismissed it as unimportant to the pleasure she felt. This time, rather than concentrate on staying still, he thrust upward as she slid down. The rocking was intentionally slow and steady and deep, so deep. She could feel his erection inside her, the round head of it rubbing against a spot that brought a new burst of sensation each time he moved. He pushed harder into her and wrapped his arms like bands of steel around her back. In turn, Cass closed her arms around his neck and clung to him with all her strength, afraid that if she let go she might fall into some endless black hole.

So tightly entwined, they could move only at the point where their bodies met. Malcolm began to snap his hips furiously, and the pressure was suddenly too much. She felt something shatter inside her and the rush of pleasure was so overwhelming, she feared she might faint. She closed her eyes and saw splashes of color and pinpricks of light. Her body stilled then but tightened even more around him so that her knees gripped his thighs, her arms closed around his back. Afraid of her reaction, she needed to cling to him for reassurance. But how was it possible to be afraid of something that felt so good? Her orgasm was like a heated wave crashing out to her limbs only to slowly recede, taking with it all of her strength, all of her reason and all of her resistance.

In the end, her head fell limply against his shoulder. She felt the wetness on her cheek and knew what it was, but she was too spent to be embarrassed.

“Shh, shh, don’t cry.”

He must have felt the tears on his shoulder.

They sat there for some time, each content not to move. It wasn’t until the sweat created by their activity started to cool and Cass’s legs began to ache that she felt compelled to move.

“Wait.” Malcolm shifted her so that her legs came out from under her knees and circled his waist underneath the pillows at his back. Then he lifted her off him and slipped out. Reaching for a tissue, he removed the condom and tossed it quite competently in the waste-basket situated against the nearest wall.

“Nice shot,” she murmured against his neck.

“I told you I liked sports. I’m best at football, but not half-bad at basketball.”

She chuckled and the movement caused her body to jiggle against his. The matted hair on his chest, though damp, was still enough to tickle her breasts so much so that she reluctantly pulled away.

“We’re a mess,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Yeah. Come on, we’ll shower.”

She rolled off him and thought how easy it was to take his hand and let him lead her into the bathroom conveniently situated off the bedroom. It, like the rest of the house, was spacious and filled with all the conveniences. The oversize claw-footed bathtub, the centerpiece of the room, was especially impressive.

“Do you ever actually use that?”

“No,” he replied quickly. A little too quickly. She glanced at him now suspiciously. “Cats, pink and baths. I left one out.”

He slapped her pert buttocks and pushed her into a shower that felt like it had fifteen showerheads. He washed her thoroughly, but not to arouse. He, however, was not unaffected when she returned the favor. She leaned into him and let her hand trail down to where he was once again hard and nearly scalding hot. He dropped his head back and let her tease for a few minutes, let her feel the size and the width of him, let her test the heaviness of his balls underneath until he once again twisted out of her reach.

Taking her palm in his hand he lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “You had a tough day and I can still see the bruises along your rib cage. If I take you again I might hurt you and I won’t do that.”

“I don’t hurt now.”

“Tomorrow you might. Come on, you need some sleep.” She felt much like an obedient child being led around by the hand by a parent as he escorted her out of the shower and took the time to dry her off with a fluffy brown towel. Back in his bedroom, he offered her one of his T-shirts, which she quickly accepted and then went about turning down the bed.

Naked, he crawled under the covers and made a space for her to join him. Not that there wasn’t plenty. Six people could have slept in that bed together and not known the others were there. Somehow Cass didn’t think that would be the case with them.

She hesitated before getting in the bed, a lingering doubt nipping at her heels. What had happened to returning to their corners? If she slept with him, let him hold her, then it wouldn’t be meaningless sex.

It wouldn’t be meaningless anyway.

The echo of truth in her head was as loud as a spirit making contact. No, it hadn’t been meaningless. It had been intense and now that the lethargy and woozy good feelings of it had passed, she could see that it was going to be something real she had to deal with. But maybe she didn’t have to deal with it tonight.

His hand was still stretched out to her. “What happened to being brave?”

“I was,” she said pertly.

“You were.” He sighed. “You are. Brave enough to talk to ghosts and brave enough to survive being committed and brave enough to take on a monster. So be brave enough for this, too, and come to bed.”

She hesitated only for another second and then climbed into the bed with him and let him settle the covers around her. He pushed up against her side, clearly not satisfied with just having her within reach, and spooned her from behind.